


Toast

by Jorie2127 (dsha801)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff and Humor, Love Bites, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6568348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsha801/pseuds/Jorie2127
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt sentence: Others finding the bites on one's collarbones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toast

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm spamming whoever decided to follow my works. Perhaps I should stop and wait before continuing with other works.  
> Give me love and kudos :c  
> And prompts

“Is that…” Gabriel trailed off, curiosity and amusement seeping into his tone, not sure how to continue.

Lucifer turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow when he didn't continue. “What?”

He could feel a smirk forming on his lips as he pointed at the barely noticeable mark on Lucifer’s tattooed collarbone with a finger. “Are those hickeys?”

Lucifer scoffed, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Of course not,” he said, even as his hand reached unconsciously to touch briefly at his neck, fingers lingering on the bruise with something Gabriel could only call fondness.

Squinting at his brother’s weird actions, Gabriel sat back.

“I didn’t notice before for the wings you’ve there, but now I can’t stop looking at it. That’s quite the large trail you've got there, bro.”

“I don’t know why you are talking about.”

"...Right."

Okay, that was weird. Lucifer usually wore hickeys and hand-shaped bruises proudly, making sure to show off his last conquest. Especially when Michael was around. Gabriel’s eyes went from Lucifer’s hand covering the feathers of his tattoo to Michael, who was sitting next to Lucifer, chin held high as he looked away from them. Gabriel raised his own eyebrow, noticing the small curl of lips under the rim of the bottle as he took small sips from his beer. 

Wait.

Gabriel blinked. His eyes going from Lucifer’s fake innocence to Michael’s smug face. And yeah, that smug face wasn’t the one that seemed to be his default expression, but one filled with pride and─ were his lips twitching?

That fucking bastard. He didn’t even try to dissimulate!

Sighing internally, Gabriel didn’t prod at the issue and made them think that he hadn’t notice. He held his cup high after asking for a refill, trying to mask the mischief coloring his expression.

“I want to make his toast!” he said, filling his tone with faked cheerfulness. “Come on, guys, join me!”

Lucifer and Michael threw him curious looks, but after some indulging, they both grabbed their different drinks.

“What do you want to make a toast for?” asked Michael.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re here together, alive, with good jobs and looking damn good, if I say so myself. I say that all that deserves a toast!”

Michael still had a wary expression, but complied along with a pouting Lucifer. Their cups made a soft ‘clink’ sound as they touched, small drops falling from the glasses to their hands. Lucifer laughing at the expression Michael wore at seeing his now wet hand.

Gabriel waited. When they had drank a good portion of liquid, he commented offhandedly, “Can’t forget to mention how happy I am that you finally decided to fuck, too.”

Then he drank from his own glass.

It happened exactly what he thought it would as they both spluttered. Gabriel relished from those two hacking sounds and decided to wait at least ten seconds before going to help them. Or maybe fifteen. Yeah, they wouldn’t die because of more five seconds. Though Lucifer was making worrisome dying noises; the alcohol clearly went through the wrong place. Michael wasn't that far behind.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. More of that UST going on between you two would have killed me, too.”

Gabriel didn't even fought the bright grin on his face at receiving two hateful glares.


End file.
